


Holidays

by H_Faith_Marr



Series: Blue Spirit AU [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blue Spirit AU, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Festivals, Fluff, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_Faith_Marr/pseuds/H_Faith_Marr
Summary: Zuko is taken to a festival. That's it. That's the fic.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Blue Spirit AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574527
Comments: 131
Kudos: 1220





	Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm alive? I think? And I'm pretty sure I promised fluff.
> 
> I don't know if this is fluff, but I tried?
> 
> Also it is a lot shorter than the others...

Aang’s definition of “vacation” and Zuko’s appear to be very, very different. Zuko pictures a quiet beach, maybe stories and warm food around a fire, not… whatever _this_ is. Loud, crowded with people who would rather kill him than look at him, with fire and fireworks at every booth and around every corner…

Not that he doesn’t know what a festival is. It’s just not what he’d call a vacation.

“And look, look!” Aang is saying, bouncing from one stall to another. “ _Everyone_ has a mask, so you won’t stick out at all! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, fantastic, Aang.” But Sokka hardly glances the airbender’s way, instead fixing a worried gaze on Zuko. He lowers his voice to ask, “Are you doing alright there, buddy?”

His aggressive flinch away from a particularly boisterous festival-goer should be answer enough, but other than a brief, steadying hand on his shoulder, the tribesman lets Zuko choose his reply for himself. 

He crosses his arms, and even he isn’t sure if the lift of his shoulders is a shrug or a shield.

Sokka narrows his eyes at the middle distance for a moment before nodding his head sharply once and sticking his hand out to Zuko. “Come on. I have an idea.”

Unsure of himself but still willing to afford the other some measure of trust, Zuko hesitantly takes the offered hand. The contact sends warm shivers across his skin, even through his gloves, as if every nerve ending had been asleep and is now lighting up under a gentle touch. 

Being led through the crowd instead of forging his own way is strangely calming. It’s far easier to keep an eye on his surroundings, for one thing, and Sokka isn’t shy about pushing through drunk revelers either, leaving a clear space in his wake for Zuko. Even that little extra bit of air makes it that much easier to breathe. 

Sokka guides them towards the edge of the densely packed throng to the booths various merchants and shop owners have set up to take advantage of the festivities. They stop at a stall displaying paper, scrolls, and various writing implements, finally giving some clue as to what’s going on the the Water Tribe boy’s mind. A moment later he’s bartering with the stall owner in low tones, and Zuko faces the street to watch his back.

Aang hadn’t been kidding when he said _everyone_ is wearing a mask. Bare faces are scarce, and even the guards stationed to keep relative peace have uniform masks of green and gold. Most notably in the flood of wooden characters and ceramic spirits is a variety of blue and white masks fashioned much like Zuko’s own, rendering him even more anonymous than he had dared hope. Maybe… maybe he can relax a bit after all.

Though he does wonder why the Blue Spirit is so popular in an Earth Kingdom town. Isn’t _Love Amongst the Dragons_ a Fire Nation play?

A satchel of scrolls and a stone slate are pressed against his chest, and his attention snaps back to Sokka, who rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I couldn’t afford writing chalk on top of all that, but we can use charcoal instead?”

Zuko tightens his grip on the bag and slate, and Sokka lets go, though he appears to be waiting for something. When Zuko fails to provide whatever reaction he’s looking for, merely standing awkwardly with an air of subdued bafflement, he slaps his forehead with a groan of self-recrimination. “Of course, I haven’t told you what it’s for!

“Okay, so this.” He taps the slate. “Along with charcoal is so you can communicate with us without having to bend over or something —because that _cannot_ be good for your side. And these.” He waves a hand at the stachel. “Are going to work as a… dictionary? Of sorts? Because I thought, even if your voice doesn’t work, your hands do, and those Yuyan guys had a whole _language_ of hand signs, right? So I thought we could invent our own!”

Zuko has never been so glad for his mask, because he can pretend that his eyes aren’t burning and that his face is dry. Thanks is still in order, however, so he bows, extra grateful for the supplies in his arms so he can’t accidentally form his hands into the flame.

Sokka squawks something about Zuko’s side and people looking, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him upright.

Zuko lets himself be guided around the festival once again, revels in the laughter and light as he clutches this _gift_ to his chest. He wants to ask _why_ , wants to protest _you don’t even know me_ , wants to tell him _you don’t know what this is worth_ , wants to beg _what will I have to pay_ , wants to scream _I don’t deserve this_.

But he allows himself a moment of calm. He breathes. He is grateful.

These people… they have been so kind, have given him _so much_ …

Perhaps there is something he can give them in return.

**Author's Note:**

> All I have to say about that last sentence is... :)
> 
> Next update (to be uploaded at an unknown time at some point in the future) is kind of happy-sad? So. Prepare yourselves. (Also prepare for it to take just as long as this update to come out... sorry.)


End file.
